 A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust and a hearty high of silver, the lone ranger. With his faithful Indian companion, Tuttle, the daring and resourceful massed rider of the planes led the fight for law and order in the early western United States. Nowhere in the pages of history can one find a greater champion of justice. Join with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. From out of the past come the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse Silver. The lone ranger rides again. Among the mushroom mining camps that sprang up in western territory, Tombstone, Arizona was in a class by itself. Few were as rich, none as wild as this, that rose on the spot where a browsing mule accidentally uncovered a fabulously wealthy ledge of silver. And following the inrush of miners to the heat scorched Tombstone mountains, there came gamblers, gunmen, and road agents. These last found rich prey in the stagecoaches that daily rattled out of Tombstone with cargos of bar silver. And among these, none became as notorious as the mingo kid and his partner known only as Salty. The two outlaws set spurs to their mounts and streaked toward an approaching stage. A moment later, they were brandishing six guns before the startled eyes of driver and messenger. Thanks, driver. You're the mingo kid. That's right. Want we should kick the treasure box off? You get off yourself. Climb down a walk, we're taking the stage and all. Hours later, driver and shotgun messenger reported the theft of their stage to Sheriff John Macy in Tombstone. On the ninth or tenth time in the past two months, Sheriff Macy organized a posse and went in futile pursuit of outlaws. And as in each occasion in the past, the trail circled and swung back toward town, ending when the lawman came upon the stage itself, abandoned and wrecked beyond repair. Pull up, boys. Let's see what we find this time. Oh, there. Oh, there. Oh, there. Oh, silver left aboard. Make me sure that, hey, Jeff, they usually head for the creek. See if you can pick up their sign over there. Here comes Clem, Sheriff. Yeah? He's been over that way. Have you seen something? Whoa, boy. Whoa, whoa. We find anything, Clem. Yeah, they went in the creek to hide their trail again, Sheriff. That's what they always do. Yeah. Want we should try and find where they came out? We'll have to. And I bet we won't find any more than we found the other times, Clem. Those fillers got me beat. Hell. I'll have to do something about it. What can you do? Find somebody they can't beat. Hell, who would that be? Only one fellow like that I can think of. And that's the Lone Ranger. Sheriff Macy was one of the few who knew that a message sent to a certain pod gray at a little Spanish mission would be relayed to the Lone Ranger. It was a week later when the masked man received the summons and rode into camp where Tonto had been waiting. Oh, there we are. Oh, easy. Hello. Get your horse saddle. I just had word from Sheriff Macy. Needless in Tombstone. It was dusk when the Lone Ranger and his Indian friend came within sight of the hustling mining town, nestled in a valley surrounded by the Tombstone Mountains. They were looking for a campsite before entering the community. About that over there, Tonto. It looks to me like an abandoned mine. Maybe we could make camp in the shaft house. That's a good idea. We'll get settled and go into town and find Macy. Get back, you bastard. I'll let you have the other barrel. What's the matter, old timer? Are we trespassing? Oh, go and write your. Turn them horses around and get. Sorry. We thought this mine had been abandoned. Well, it hasn't been. Are you the caretaker? Caretaker? Not by a dirt inside. I'm Job Jagger. Now own this mine. Now you get like I said. Or I'll fill you with a full of buckshot. She won't hold water. All right, Job. This is your property. You've got our property. All right. All right. All right. All right. All right. All right. All right. You've got your property. You've got a right to say who can come on it. Come on, Toto. We'll look for another place. Come on, Toto. Get them up. Come. The lone ranger and Toto went on and made camp in another place, then entered town and called on the mask man's old friend, Sheriff Macy. No use trailing salty in the mingo kid because we always lose him as soon as they hit that creek. Oh. They're somewhere right around here and yet we can't find them. Folks are getting scared. Take the Lucky Star Stamp Mill and smell it. They haven't sent any silver out in over three weeks. Just cut it, piled it up in bars in their strong room. Are you sure mingo and salty are hiding out in your town? Got to be. Else why would they always head back toward town after the hole ups? You're probably right. And that reminds me, on the way here we try to make camp in the shaft house of what looked to be an abandoned mine, the Apache King, wouldn't it, Toto? Not right. But you ran into old Job Jaggers, huh? Yes. Job's quite a character. Used to be one of the richest fellas in Tombstone. Located that mine of his within a couple of months of the time, Ed Sanders opened up this field. Then the vein pinched out and Job went bust. He used to be worth a couple of million. On paper anyhow. Now he'd have a tough time laying his hand on two bits. Why him stay at mine? Oh, he's a little loco, Toto. He figures everybody's out to skin him. Won't let anybody near that mine, so most folks around here know him and leave him alone. A mine like that would make a good hideout for crooks. Eh? Pretty deep, isn't it? Nearly 200 feet with tunnels, galleries and cross cuts running every which way. You'd need a map to find your way around down there. But if Job won't let honest folks near it, how do you figure a couple of crooks would get to use it? He may be working with him. His attitude might be just a blind. If you knew Job like I do, you'd never say that. Maybe it's lucky I don't. What do you mean? Something tells me, Sheriff, you've been overlooking a good bet. Toto and I are going to invest here. Not till you get past Job, you won't. I think we can handle him, don't you, Toto? You see, Sheriff, it's obvious that Job has never been approached in just the right way. The Lone Ranger and Toto waited until the following morning. Then they rode toward the old mine. But as they drew near the shaft house, Toto cut to the side and circled to approach from another direction. Job was awake and alert. He came to the door as before and threatened the approaching masked man with his shotgun. You back here again? I told you to stay away. I know what nothing to do with strangers. Masked ones in particular. The Lone Ranger kept advancing slowly and spoke in a reassuring voice, while Toto crept up from the side. Job, I've returned to get permission to go through your mine. You've returned to get permission? Well, of all the nerds, you must be Loco. You won't let me go through? Not by a dirt inside, I won't. He was Loco to ask it. And in that case, we'll have to get permission in another way. All right, Toto, grab him. Hold him, Toto. Me hold him all right. All right, Toto. I have him. Take the shells from his gun and we'll let him go. This is a fine thing. Jump by a mask. Listen to me, Job. We don't care whether or not there's any silver in your mine. We're here to see if it's being used as a hideout for outlaws. Outlaws? How's yours, eh? No, I'm not an outlaw. I simply want to find out if Salty and the Mingo kid are hiding in your mine. Well, why in tarnation didn't you say that for? You didn't give us a chance. There ain't no outlaws down there and tell you that right now. We'll have to see for ourselves. If you go down there without somebody to guide you, you'll be lucky if you ever find your way out again. We'll have to take our chance on that. Well, I'll tell you what I'll do. Well? If that's all you're looking for, and I reckon it is, I'll show you through the mine myself. You will? Sure, ain't no objections. No, we have none. How will we get down the shaft? The hoist's still working. Come on, you and the Redskim both. I'll take you down. Good. We'll be with you as soon as we've taken care of our horses. While the lone ranger stayed with Job, Tonto led Silver to a hiding place where Scout had been tethered. Then with the old miner showing the way, the masked man and his friend descended into the Apache king by means of an ancient hoist that still did creaky service. The trio left the hoist at the first level and carefully explored all the galleries and cross-cuts. Finding nothing to confirm their suspicions, they descended to the second level and repeated the process. And hours later, having descended to the lowest level of all, nearly 200 feet below the surface of the earth, still without finding trace of the outlaws or of their hideout, they turned their steps once more toward the main shaft. Well, it looks as if we've been wasting our time. Look out for that timber, Tonto. Let me watch him. You owe you an apology, Job. I didn't know, of course, it's Salty and the Mingo kid were using the mine as a hideout. It did seem as if they might be. Sir, now you know better. Maybe now you'll let me alone. Yes, of course. How much farther do we have to go before we're back at the main shaft again? Why the spell yet? First, we turn at the next cross-cut. Now, keep us happy. You wait. What is it, Tonto? You come here. Just a moment, Job. Find something? Footprints. And go that way. Yes, you're right, Tonto. We nearly overlooked them. Hey, you found footprints, you say? Yes, we did. Well, those are mine. I was down here yesterday. You never made these, Job. They're too big. And they're heading up a cross-cut we must have missed. Tonto, you stay here and watch Job. I'm going to see where they lead. You need help. You call. Right. Here. Here's something odd. Now I wonder. Tonto, come here a moment. Bring Job with you. Tonto, did you hear me? Tonto! Something must have happened. I better get back. Tonto, what happened? What's the matter? You've been hit, Tonto. Did Job do this? Can you hear me? Job's leaving us here. Job, stop! Back here! Job! Get no good, Kimus Ali. Him call. This is my fault, Tonto. And it seemed as if we had guessed wrong about the mine. I got careless. No, me get careless. You call, and he turn head. And him hit me. It's my fault. Tonto, Job was here as a guard for those crooks. He strict us. We're 200 feet below the surface of the earth. 200 feet and no way to get to the top. The curtain falls on the first act of our Lone Ranger drama. Before the next exciting scenes, please permit us to pause for just a few moments. Now to continue our story. After Job Jaggers abandoned the Lone Ranger and Tonto at the bottom of the Apache King, a silver mine, the eccentric old man mounted a mule and drove it in a course that brought him to a creek at the rear of the mine and a half-mile distant. Here he entered the creek and rode upstream until he paused before an apparently solid bluff. A glance around to make sure that he wasn't being observed and he addressed the bluff in low tones. Mingo, are you in there? This is Jaggers. Come on in. Get up, sir. As Job left the creek and advanced up the bluff, it became apparent that the latter was not as solid as it had seemed. Brush and the overlapping rocks hit an opening big enough for man and mule. Inside Job dismounted and told what had just happened while Salty and the Mingo kid listened. So they're down there now, Mingo. The Masked Man and the Redskins both. And no way out. Good work, Job. Yeah, you did a better job than you ever figured, old man. You know who those two hombres are? Tell them, Mingo. I'll tell them. They're the Lone Ranger and his Indian sidekick named Tonto. Well, I'll be switched. Now we can make the cleanup, and we can forget about hiding in this old mine of yours and go away. Now's the time we can grab enough bar silver so we can forget about holdups. Hey, what do you mean? I mean the Lucky Star Stamp Mill and Smelter. Huh? It's filled to bustin' with silver, old man, and we're gonna get it. You mean... you mean tonight? I mean tonight, right now. Mingo, there's only one thing about this I don't like. What's that, Salty? It's dependent on the mind to hold them two hombres. I've heard plenty about that Masked Man. He's been in plenty of tight spots of foreign. He's always got out. He won't get out this time, Salty. How do you know? How can you be sure? He won't get out this time, because this time he'll be dead. In the meantime, at the bottom of the Apache King, the Lone Ranger and Tonto had found their way back to the main shaft. The horse is at the top, and there's no way of bringing it down, Tonto. If we could just reach the ladder built into the side of the shaft. Well, it'd not come down this far. I noticed that. It ends about two levels above us. But we could reach it by cutting hand holes in the face of the shaft. What happened? It sounded like an explosion. Where'd it come from? I wish I knew it. Wait a moment. I think I do know. Look there, Tonto, water. Ah. Let the creaking of the mine. Let it rise plenty fast. Too fast to give us a chance to look for another way out. Too fast to cut hand holes. What do we do? One moment, I don't know. Well, they've tried to kill us in a good many different places, Kimosabi. I wonder if at last they'll ride our epitaph in tombstones. Here we go. Yeah? We don't have to worry about them no longer, Mingo. I've been down below in the hoist. The water's rose at least 30 feet. If they ain't drowned, then they got gills. You sure that's all they... Sure, I'm sure. Don't think I'd take chances with them, too, do ya? And let's get started. You ready, old man? Are you going to the stamp mill, are we? Right here and right now. Everybody set? Right, Mingo. And let's go. Get up, boy. Get up! It was night, and only a skeleton crew remained at work at the lucky star stamp mill and smelter, but still the great stamp shook and thundered as they rhythmically pounded heaps of ore to dust and still the smelter glowed as it took the ore from the stamps and separated silver from slag. Ira Johnson, night superintendent, surveyed the scene with satisfaction until suddenly the door opened and three men came in. All right, old man, you and Sully Fanout keep coming. All right. Hi there, Johnson. You know me. You're the Mingo kid. That's right. Hey, you! Shut off them blasted stamps or a fella can hear himself think. I said, shut him off! That's better. You'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't have been hurt. What do you want, Mingo? Oh, yeah, I was forgetting about you. Well, that's easy told, Johnson. It's one of two things. Either we get all that bar silver you've been saving up for us or we get your heights. Under cover of Mingo's guns and those of Salty and Job Jaggers, Johnson and his men did as they were told. First, they brought a heavy freight wagon to the front of the mill and hitched it to a sturdy six-horse team. Then they loaded it with silver till the store in the strong room was exhausted. This done, Johnson voiced a quick objection. You won't get away with this, Mingo. Won't I, Johnson? Why not? Because you can't get away with this silver unless you drive it through Tombstone. The minute you enter Tombstone, you'll be nabbed. I will be, huh? What did you say if I told you I'm the fella that just killed the Lone Ranger? What? I can get away with anything. Just the same. I'm glad you brought that up. Solly! Yeah? You and Job take them fellas inside and tie and gag them. What about Johnson? Leave them be. He's come with us. Oh, look here, Mingo. It's your idea, Johnson. Mine? Sure. You said if we went through Tombstone, we'd be nabbed. But we won't. We're gonna stick to the streets at a darkest. If anybody says anything, you're gonna be along to tell them it's all right. It was done as Mingo ordered. First, the crew was tied and gagged and left inside the mill. Then, with Johnson beside him on the seat of the freighter, and Salty and Job accompanying them on their horses as if they were guards, Mingo took the reins of the six-horse team and directed it for Tombstone. Get up! Come on! Get up! This was a daring move. For he and Salty were well known there, and one instant of recognition would have ruined their plans. They avoided the main streets, however, and only once were they challenged. Oh, there! You answer, Johnson. Hear me? Answer them and get a bullet where it'll hurt. Hey, surely a stranger? What about it? That's right. Remember, I thought something might be wrong. That's awesome. The wagon finally left Tombstone and started out on the rough wagon road that led eventually to Tucson. But still, the men in the wagon and those escorting it remain tense and still. They carried a fortune with them. They were ready to kill to keep it. But at last it seemed as if they were safely beyond recapture. When dawn rose, they were out of the hills, miles beyond Tombstone, and the Mingo kid ordered a halt. We done all right so far, Mingo, but I like to keep on going till I know we're safe. Besides, what are you going to do with Johnson there? Johnson is as far as you go. You mean you're going to make me get off and walk back? Well, I must, I must, of course. Hold it. Sit down. What for? I meant, this is as far as you go alive. This is your kind of job, Soli. Finish them off, and we'll hide them under the top and be on our way. Well, you heard me, Soli. What's holding you? Finish them off, Mingo. Mingo, wait. Shut up. Shut up? You telling me to shut up? Well, listen, no, wait. I didn't mean it that way, Mingo, but it can't be so. They must be ghosts. They're dead. Dead. Ghosts. What in blazes are you talking about? Look, Mingo, there by that big rock ahead on the trail, you see him, it ain't just me. You do see him, don't you, Mingo? Yeah, it ain't just you, Soli. That's what we'll learn how? No, not me. Try and get us. Come on. Try and get us. Don't shoot, Mr. Ikevup. I can't fight you alone. You're under arrest for taking you into town. It was a crestfallen trio of outlaws who found themselves back in Tombstone later that day. And it was a triumphant sheriff, Macy, who put them under lock and key. Yeah, I reckon that'll hold you. That's where you three feathers should have been long ago. That's where you're going to stay. You needn't put out so much about getting us, Macy. Wasn't you that telling it was a masked man? Sure. Who sent for him, huh? Answer me that. Who sent for him in the first place? The blazers were there. There's something I want to ask. What's that, Soli? We figured the low and ranger in that red skin would drown. In fact, we no blame well they was drowned. They had to be. We left them under 30 feet of water. Now, how unfunded did they ever come to life again? You fellas done it, Soli. Fact is, if you hadn't tried to drown the masked man, you might have gone to jail. If you hadn't tried to drown the masked man, you might have got away with all that, sir. No, listen, Sheriff. No, listen, Sheriff. Macy, what's the meaning of that? Put it in language I can understand. Well, Mingo, if you'd had a couple of more hours, you think you could have got away scot-free? I know a dog on the world we could. By that time we'd have had the silver hit away where nobody would have found it. Well, if you hadn't tried to drown the masked man, you might have had them a couple of hours. Sure. He was figuring he might have to cut hand holes up to where that emergency ladder started. But you come along, let in all that water, and he didn't have to do any cutting. That water just lifted him right up to where he wanted to be. Him and the engine both. You're crazy. You must be. No, not by a darn sight. If they'd have been in one of them side tunnels, I reckon they would have drowned all right. But there wasn't. It was in the main shaft going straight up and down. So when the water rose, all they had to do was tear float and rise up with it. So that's the way they got out. Sure. Water lifted them far enough to grab the ladder, and then they climbed the rest of the way out. Any ordinary fella would have been drowned. Maybe so, maybe so, Salted. But you're forgetting something. Yeah, what's that? This time it wasn't no ordinary fella you was fooling with. This time it was the Lone Ranger. This is a feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated, created and produced by George W. Trendle, directed by Charles D. Livingston, and edited by Fran Stryker. The part of the Lone Ranger is played by Brace Beamer. Thank you.